


3 Idiots and a Wedding

by NachoDiablo, Neutralchaos



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Excessive Pining, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2020, Misuse of Oreos, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Weddings, fake weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/pseuds/NachoDiablo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neutralchaos/pseuds/Neutralchaos
Summary: “No, I’m not wearingthatoutfit.”“Why’d you buy it, then?”“Because my rotten best friend goaded me into buying it as a joke while we were both wasted.”Nat gestured dramatically to the lower left drawer of Steve’s desk. “And yet there it sits, as it has for the last three weeks. Because you’ve been silently working up the courage to put it on, chase down your man, and sweep him off his feet, like the romantic fool you are at heart.”“That’sa romantic outfit?”~Bucky and Sam get fake engaged for the loot, Steve tries to be supportive (inthatoutfit??) and all three of them commit to being as willfully obtuse as possible.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Comments: 28
Kudos: 108
Collections: Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2020





	3 Idiots and a Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marvel Reverse Big Bang 2020, thanks NC for the premise & art (three! pieces!! ahhh!!!) that sparked this extremely fun nonsense, and thanks to the mods for running everything so smoothly as always!
> 
> All the thanks to [a_majesti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_majesti) for the beta read & support <3 <3 <3

**_STEVE_ **

The clock refused to tick forward to five thirty. It sat stubbornly at five eleven, only creeping to five twelve an aeon later. Steve frowned and leaned back in his chair. His work was done for the day. No last minute emails or frantic calls. There was no reason to stay cooped up in his office any longer.

Except it was Tuesday, and it was not yet five thirty. So, Steve remained settled at his desk, glaring at the clock.

“Mail’s here.” Nat strode into his office without knocking and tossed a stack of envelopes into his empty inbox. Each envelope was already opened.

“Figured you’d need something to pass the time,” Nat said, smirking.

Steve ignored her, though he felt his cheeks flush. He stood up and stretched, then walked to the front of his desk. He leaned against the edge as he picked up the mail and shuffled through the advertisements, form letters, and cards.

Nat dropped into the empty chair and put her feet up on the desk, ankles crossed. “It’s mostly junk. But there’s some sort of invitation mixed in.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He knew Nat had voraciously read every detail of whatever was on the invitation. Still, he humored her and separated the pale yellow envelope from the rest of the mail. His brow furrowed as he pulled out a piece of weighted cardstock patterned with gold stars and pastel birds.

“It’s a wedding invitation,” he mused. 

“Who’s wedding?”

“Thor and Val’s.”

“No it’s not--” Nat stopped herself too late. Her eyes flashed as Steve laughed at her exposed snooping.

“It’s for Samuel and James.” He looked at the invitation again. “Samuel Wilson and James Barnes. How do I know them?”

“You probably don’t,” Nat said. “It could be just a couple of fans.”

It was possible. Before Steve dove into the glamorous world of running charity foundations, he’d been the starting pitcher for the Oakland A’s. He’d been to a few World Series and won most of them. He was in his fifth year of retirement, but he still got fan letters of all kinds. Most of them went to his post office box, but every so often something popped up in his office.

But Steve shook his head and stared at the names. “No, I feel like I know them. Something about those names feels familiar. Besides, it’s a  _ wedding  _ invitation.”

“Right,” Nat drawled. “They probably just want you to send a gift.”

“Which I will do,” Steve said stubbornly. “Once I figure out who they are.”

“Well, let me know if you need a plus one. I won’t say no to a free open bar.” 

Nat nodded towards the clock. “It’s almost five thirty. Better hurry up and change. You don’t want to be late for your date.”

“It’s not a date,” Steve said automatically as he set the invitation down on his desk and hurried towards his gym bag.

“I’m telling your boyfriend you said that.”

Steve paused his rummaging to give her a pointed stare. “He’s  _ not  _ my boyfriend.”

“He  _ could  _ be, if you managed to drum up some courage and actually ask him out. Instead of  _ coincidentally  _ showing up at the park at the same time every Tuesday and Thursday to heckle him while you two run and make heart eyes at each other.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled. He picked up the gym bag and ran his eyes sharply over the scant contents. The compression shirt and basketball shorts he’d packed this morning were nowhere to be found.

“I’m just saying, he’s extremely cute. And he definitely checks you out when you lap him.”

“Mmhmm.” Steve didn’t ask how Nat got her info. He didn’t want to know. “Did you take my running shorts?”

“Why would I touch, let alone take, your running shorts?”

“I have long since stopped asking the  _ whys  _ when it comes to our relationship, _ ”  _ Steve said dryly. “But they’re not in my bag, and I packed them this… Oh,  _ no.” _

The gym bag fell to the floor as Steve’s shoulders drooped. He remembered now; he’d folded up the shirt and shorts this morning, set them on his bed, and then the toaster oven had started to smoke so he’d run to the kitchen and never returned for the clothes.

“Guess I’m missing my date after all.” Steve tried not to sound too dejected. By the look of amused pity on Nat’s face, he did not succeed.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up and a wicked grin spread across her face. “Are you forgetting about your spares?”

Hope flared for a moment, until Steve realized what she was referring to. “No.”

“No, you didn’t forget?”

_ “No _ , I’m not wearing  _ that  _ outfit.”

“Why’d you buy it, then?”

“Because my rotten best friend goaded me into buying it as a joke while we were both wasted.”

Nat gestured dramatically to the lower left drawer of Steve’s desk. “And yet there it sits, as it has for the last three weeks. Because you’ve been silently working up the courage to put it on, chase down your man, and sweep him off his feet, like the romantic fool you are at heart.”

_ “That’s _ a romantic outfit?”

“Yes,” Nat insisted. Her grin widened. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Steve pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, willing Nat to disappear and be replaced with his Under Armour. Instead, he opened his eyes to find Nat leaning back even further in his chair with  _ that outfit  _ dangling between her fingers.

“Four minutes til five thirty,” she said in a sing-song voice. “What’s it gonna be?”

Scowling, Steve reached over and snatched the outfit from her grasp. Wordlessly, he turned and stalked towards the bathroom to change, ignoring Nat’s gleeful chuckles.

“Your boyfriend’s gonna love it, Rogers! And if not, at least your poor nips will have room to breathe for once.”

**_BUCKY_ **

Bucky grinned as he held up an Oreo for inspection. The perfect amount of peanut butter was perched on the end. He popped it in his mouth and reached for another cookie from the neat stack on the napkin in front of him. The peanut butter jar was clamped firmly between his knees for better one-armed scooping leverage.

“Hey, where’s my water bottle?” Sam rushed into the kitchen and threw open the dishwasher. He saw Bucky’s setup and wrinkled his nose. “Get the peanut butter out of your crotch. Nasty.”

“It’s not in my crotch,” Bucky replied calmly, dipping another Oreo into the jar.

“And you’re getting Oreo crumbs in there, too? Ugh.”

Bucky ignored him. “Your water bottle is over there,” he said, gesturing towards the counter with his cookie.

“Thanks.” Sam closed the dishwasher and paused. “That’s not your dinner though, is it?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Bucky asked. “It’s got fat, protein, and carbs. A perfectly balanced meal. Plus it’s vegan.”

Sam’s lips pursed in the way that meant he was trying not to smile. Bucky’s stomach fluttered. He liked making Sam smile. But before he could make another joke, Sam’s eyes widened as his gaze wandered to the counter.

“Is that a Vitamix?” Sam walked over and grabbed his water bottle, then squinted at the blender sitting by the sink.

Bucky shrugged. “Yeah, it is.”

“It wasn’t here yesterday.”

“Uh, it just came today.”

Sam folded his arms and leaned against the counter. “You bought a five hundred dollar blender? Better not have been with my rent money.”

“Of course not.” Bucky paused, then stuffed another Oreo into his mouth. “It was free,” he mumbled as he chewed.

One of Sam’s eyebrows arched. “Free?”

“Mmhmm.”

Sam’s eyebrow crept higher. Bucky chewed for longer than necessary, but Sam didn’t drop his eyes. Defeated, Bucky swallowed and cleared his throat. 

“It, uh. Might have come from our wedding registry.”

“Our  _ what?” _

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Simmer down.”

Sam didn’t reply as he snatched Bucky’s last Oreo and dipped it into the peanut butter. Bucky steadied the jar with his hand so that it didn’t actually tip over into his crotch. He didn’t need any more fuel for his pathetic crush.

“Alright. Explain.” Sam flopped into the chair next to Bucky and started to nibble at the Oreo.

“I made a wedding registry and sent out invitations to a bunch of rich people so that they’d have their assistants or whoever send gifts.” 

“Where the hell did you get that idea from?”

“Kate did it when she moved in with Clint.”

“They would,” Sam muttered. He ate the last bite of his Oreo. Bucky absolutely did not notice how he licked his lips after. “So it worked?”

“I mean, we got the Vitamix so far. And bath towels. And some Le Creuset.”

“Really?” Sam looked impressed. “Damn, that’s not bad. Guess I can’t complain.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

“You’re hilarious.” Sam stood up and stretched, then went to the sink to refill his water bottle. “Can you add one of those water filters that goes over the faucet?”

“Already on there,” Bucky said, letting himself check out Sam’s ass. Just for a few seconds, as a treat. “I know you hate the Brita.”

“You’re the best.” Sam turned around and grinned as he screwed the top onto his water bottle. He glanced down at his watch. “I gotta go. I’m almost late.”

The butterflies in Bucky’s stomach turned to lead as he watched Sam’s smile fold into something small and private. A smile that wasn’t for him.

“Better hurry,” Bucky forced out. “Wouldn’t want you to be late for your date.”

“It’s not a date,” Sam said, but that damn smile stayed on his face as he gathered his things.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, Sam geared up and went for a run in the park with some asshole who wasn’t good enough for him. Bucky did not need to know who it was to know that he was not right for Sam. Sam deserved the world. How was he supposed to get it from some loser who hadn’t even bothered to ask him out after six months of the absolute worst flirting Bucky’d ever heard of?

Not that Bucky wanted the loser to ask Sam out. 

He thought about what he’d do if Sam came home one day, all smiles with plans to meet Asshole McTryhard for dinner at some hipster bistro. Bucky would either have to confess his feelings to stop Sam from going, or move out while he was gone. And Bucky didn’t have the cash for another security deposit at the moment.

This did not, however, stop Bucky from ragging on Sam.

“You get all dolled up, meet some guy at a set time, and float on a cloud the rest of the night afterwards. Sounds like a date to me.”

“Trust me, if he wanted to date me, he’d have asked by now.”

“Well, why haven’t  _ you  _ asked  _ him?” _

The question slipped out before Bucky realized that he might be planting an unwanted idea in Sam’s head. He watched Sam’s expression closely, trying very hard to read his mind. But the way Sam shrugged one shoulder and looked away wasn’t very telling. 

“Do you think I should?” Sam asked abruptly.

“I… what?”

“Do you think I should ask him out?” 

Sam’s words were slow, weighted in a way that Bucky couldn’t decipher. For a moment Bucky almost had the courage to say  _ ask me out instead. _ Luckily he came to his senses. Hitting on your roommate was a bad idea even under the most optimal circumstances. Hitting on your roommate moments before he left to go meet another man was not at all optimal.

“I don’t know,” Bucky began, before an idea snapped into place. “Maybe I should come with you and check him out. See what we’re dealing with.”

“You’re not gonna sit and watch me run laps,” Sam said. “But you could meet me after? We can grab dinner on the way home. Get you some sustenance. We can get takeout and bring it back, so I can shower.”

“That works.” Bucky might have answered a little too quickly, but he didn’t care. An opportunity to meet the mystery dude  _ and  _ have his own dinner date with Sam after? Bucky wasn’t about to pass that up.

**_SAM_ **

“On your left!”

Sam grinned to himself as the familiar phrase echoed in his ear. He sped up, just enough to make his pursuer sweat. If he flexed his shoulders a little too, that was his own business. Six months of running with a blond beefcake had Sam upping the ante on flaunting his own assets. He’d abandoned his loose sweats for gear that clung a bit closer to his ass and biceps. Nothing near as tight as what Blondie wore, but Sam valued his healthy circulation.

He did slow down a bit as a shadow crept up on his left. Blondie’s eyes had been hot against Sam’s backside as he’d approached. It was time for Sam to get in some ogling of his own. His heartbeat sped up as Blondie’s shadow overtook him.

Then he sped past, and Sam perished mid-stride.

Instead of Blondie’s usual compression attire, thirsty but technically appropriate, a scant bit of mesh covered the tops of his pecs. Sam swore he saw the wink of sunlight glinting off a nipple ring. As Blondie pulled ahead, the back of his impossibly short shorts came into full view.  _ Enemy of the State  _ was stamped across his compact behind.

It was too much. Sam stumbled and hurtled towards the ground. Luckily he veered right as he fell, sprawling into the grass rather than face first into asphalt. He still got the wind knocked from his lungs, with pain shooting through his knees and palms as he struggled to regain his breath.

“Whoa! Are you okay?”

Sam blinked grass out of his eyes. A large hand stretched out to help him up. Sam accepted and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

“Did I trip you?” Blondie seemed distressed as he ran his free hand over his beard. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“Nah,” Sam wheezed. “You didn’t do anything. I tripped over my own feet.”

Blondie’s hand was still entwined with his. Sam didn’t want to let it go, but he also didn’t want to weird out the guy he’d been flirting with for half a year, either. Blondie didn’t seem to mind, though. He smiled and gave Sam’s hand a squeeze.

“I’m Steve,” he said with a pink-cheeked smile.

“Sam.” Their handshake should have been awkward, being more of a hand hold, but Sam liked how warm and sturdy Steve’s hand felt against his own. He looked up to meet Steve’s eyes and smiled back. “Thanks for stopping to help.”

“Of course,” Steve said. “Sorry you fell, but I’m not sorry that we finally got to meet.”

He grinned wider and Sam bit back a laugh. How was this guy so awkwardly sweet even while rocking  _ that  _ outfit? And why did it feel so  _ natural  _ to joke with Steve, like they really knew each other already?

“Maybe if you stopped trying to show off on every run you’d have gotten my name before now.”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” Steve asked with a gleam in his eye. “Is that why you tripped? To get my attention? ‘Cause you already had it, no need to--”

“Sam! Holy crap, are you okay?”

Sam jumped back and dropped Steve’s hand. Bucky was rushing across the grass with a worried expression. 

“I’m fine,” Sam called, cringing. 

“I saw you fall!”

“Great.” Sam was grateful that he wasn’t a blusher. Bucky’s fussing was embarrassing. So was being caught literally falling for his crush.

Bucky looked over at Steve and his eyes widened comically as he took in his outfit. Steve’s face was beet red now, and his eyes were flashing between Sam and Bucky. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” The shock on Bucky’s face had faded as his brow furrowed in thought.

“I’m Steve Rogers.” Steve grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.

Bucky’s expression didn’t change, but Sam struggled to keep his own jaw from dropping. Steve Rogers brought home seven World Series rings. He’d gained a beard and somehow even more muscle since his last game, but he was definitely the same guy who’d been Sam’s first fantasy draft pick every year.

“Who?” Bucky’s inquisitive stare didn’t let up. Suddenly his eyes went wide again. “Stevie? Stevie Grant?”

Steve looked taken aback. He opened his mouth, then closed it and stared back. “Bucky?” 

“Yes!” Bucky looked elated. Before Sam could ask what was going on, Steve stepped forward and gathered Bucky into a bear hug. They laughed together, clapping each other on the back. Steve didn’t fuss about Bucky’s missing arm, and Bucky seemed unbothered at being hugged by someone clad in dental floss.

A knot of jealousy twisted in Sam’s chest, but he ignored it. There was no reason to be jealous at how comfortable they seemed together. He and Steve had only just met. And Bucky didn’t date. Sam had made careful note of how he always turned people down who asked. Sometimes Sam thought that maybe Bucky flirted with  _ him, _ but Bucky never picked up any of the hints Sam dropped, so he assumed it was wishful thinking.

“So you changed your name since middle school, huh?” Bucky asked as they finally separated.

“Mom remarried, right after you moved.”

Bucky nodded. “And you managed to grow a beard?”

Steve grinned and ran a hand over his jaw in a way that was both completely innocent and far too obscene for Sam’s blood pressure to handle. “Yeah, yeah. Bucky Barnes, can’t believe-- oh! James Barnes!” 

He whipped his head over to look at Sam. “And you’re… Samuel Wilson?”

Sam shot a confused glance at Bucky before responding. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Oh.” Steve’s lower lip trembled. The smile that followed was too wide and didn’t reach his eyes. “Congratulations! I got the invitation in the mail today.”

“The--  _ oh.” _ Sam felt lightheaded. “Wait, you got an invite?” He gave Bucky a tiny glare. 

Bucky winced. “Uh, you said you go by Steve Rogers now? CEO of the Avengers Foundation?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Figured I’d do some good once I retired.”

“Right. I saw an article about your philanthropy.” Bucky snuck an apologetic look at Sam.

Sam grit his teeth to keep from screaming. Of course the moment he finally gets a shot, he winds up with a fake fiance in tow.

“Well, I’ll definitely be there on the big day,” Steve said. The volume of his voice had raised slightly. “I’m so happy for the both of you.”

“Actually the wedding’s off,” Bucky said smoothly. “The venue had to cancel. Termite infestation.”

Sam gawked at Bucky’s lie. Thankfully, Steve didn’t notice. 

“That’s terrible!” Steve said, but Bucky waved his hand.

“Nah, it’s for the best. Sammy and I have been talking and uh--”

“I can help!” Steve interrupted. “I’m sure we can find another venue for that date. One of my friends is part owner in a winery, up in the mountains. Really beautiful, and only a forty minute drive from the city. How big is your guest list? Under fifty?”

“Sure,” Bucky croaked.

“Great!” Steve’s eyes looked a little wild and his smile was still stiff. “We could go up to check it out this weekend? Make a day of it, maybe Saturday. I’ll buy lunch. Or, sorry, if I’m being too pushy--”

“No at all!” Sam’s reply surprised himself. “We’re in.”

“We are?” Bucky asked faintly.

“We are.” Sam said resolutely. He wasn’t about to turn down an outing with Steve, fake fiance or no.

Besides, surely by Saturday they’d figure out how to explain away this mess.

**_STEVE_ **

Saturday’s weather turned out to be perfect. Steve picked up Bucky and Sam at their apartment and they drove up the winding mountain roads together. They argued cheerfully about the music selection, and Googled the most embarrassing of Steve’s baseball card pictures. Sam sat in the passenger seat with Bucky in the center rear, leaning forward so he could see the pics on Sam’s phone. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard. 

Silver Ridge winery was one of Steve’s favorite places. Nestled in the mountains, it felt as though the rest of the world was put aside. Giving Sam and Bucky the grand tour was a treat. Steve loved seeing their faces light up as they took in the peaceful surroundings.

Pepper wasn’t around, but she’d ensured that the small events lodge was welcoming. Warm wood and big windows, no decor save for a few accents of fresh flowers that Steve guessed were not quite as effortless as they appeared. 

He gestured around the space. “Well, what do you think? Will your wedding theme work with the space?”

“Yes,” Bucky replied instantly.

“It will, huh?” Sam looked amused. “Care to elaborate?”

Bucky ducked his head, as though he were embarrassed. He glanced at Steve, then straightened up. “It’s rustic without being cheesy. There’s a lot of natural light. Plenty of room for dancing and mingling. Nothing too stuffy, I know you hate overly formal stuff. And I like the flowers, we can do centerpieces like that, but with gold and plum accents.”

“That sounds… really nice.” 

Steve watched as Sam smiled at Bucky, soft and sweet. Bucky did a little shrug and smiled back. Steve felt a familiar twinge in his heart. Not jealousy, exactly. Seeing Sam and Bucky together didn’t make him envious. He liked watching them, and he longed to join their warm camaraderie. 

It was a foolish thought. They were engaged, and clearly happy. There was no room for Steve and his selfish wants.

He cleared his throat. “Um, if you’ve seen enough, we can head back to town for lunch. Or we can eat here. Pepper keeps the fridge stocked, and there’s a picnic area with a great view.”

“Sounds romantic.” Sam was teasing, he had to be, but something in the brightening of his eyes made Steve’s heartbeat quicken.

“I’ll grab everything,” Steve said in a rush as he grabbed a folded blanket from behind the bar. He pointed to the clearing at the edge of the property, overlooking a rambling expanse of wilderness. “You two can get settled, I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“I can help,” Bucky started, but Steve shook his head.

“No, I insist. It’s no trouble. And you two need some time alone to discuss, I’m sure.”

Sam and Bucky looked at each other, then averted their eyes. Sam’s bottom lip caught between his teeth, and Bucky’s fingers tapped against his thigh. Steve wondered why they both looked so bashful, and how they had the nerve to be so damn adorable in the process.

Once they were gone, Steve slipped into the small kitchen and dug through the fridge for sandwich fixings. As he assembled turkey, havarti, and veggies on ciabatta rolls, he attempted to put his blooming heartache to rest.

It was only natural to fall for Sam so quickly, he told himself. Sam was good looking, obviously. But more importantly, his kind nature was evident in each interaction Steve had observed over the last six months whether it be assisting a mother with a busted jogging stroller, or stopping to pet an excited puppy, or politely greeting the elderly men who sat on the bench every afternoon feeding the birds. 

And so, it was a  _ good  _ thing that Sam had someone like Bucky. Sam deserved the very best, and Bucky was quite obviously devoted to him. Steve remembered how loyal Bucky had been back when they were kids. He always had Steve’s back, no matter what trouble Steve got himself mixed up with. Back in middle school, he’d been Steve’s first crush. Now that he was grown, Steve could admit to himself that Bucky was just as handsome and sweet as he’d been as a kid.

So yes, Steve was very happy that his old crush and his new crush had found each other. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be sad for himself, though. He shook his head as he wrapped three sandwiches in parchment paper and nestled them in a picnic basket (which he was willing to bet was more for show that anything else) alongside three bottles of sparkling water, a stack of napkins, and a bag of some kind of artisan chips that Steve hoped weren’t too healthy.

He made his way out to the picnic area, where Sam and Bucky had spread out the blanket and made themselves comfortable. They were looking at something on Sam’s phone and laughing, heads tilted together. The sunlight hit their faces and allowed the fondness in their expressions to glow, warm and inviting, and altogether too tempting for Steve’s tastes.

As Steve got closer, he was surprised to see them scoot apart as they waved him over. Sam patted the space between them, then reached for the basket.

“I can take that,” he said. “You sit down and get comfortable.”

Carefully, Steve settled onto the blanket and stretched out his legs. Sam opened the basket and started handing out the food. Steve noticed that he did not unwrap Bucky’s sandwich or open his drink; Bucky did both easily on his own, one handed. Sam did, however, make sure that Bucky was settled before he started in on his own sandwich. Bucky in turn shook some chips onto Sam’s napkin before serving himself.

The little domestic routine plucked at Steve’s poor heart strings. Sitting between them, Steve longed to wrap his arms around them both and pull the three of them together into something safe and comforting. Instead, he unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite, forcing himself to stare out at the view and pretend like it was captivating him.

“It’s gorgeous up here,” Sam said softly. “Thanks for bringing us.”

Steve swallowed and reached for his drink. “No problem,” he mumbled. “It’s my pleasure, truly. Best day I’ve had in a long time.”

Bucky looked at him oddly. “Date?”

“Day!” Steve tried not to choke on his drink. “Best  _ day!” _

“Oh.” Bucky sounded almost disappointed. Steve wondered why. He hazarded a glance over to Sam, who grinned.

“Same for me,” Sam replied. “Best day  _ and  _ best date.”

Bucky hummed in agreement and set down his sandwich so he could grab a chip. Steve felt a little bewildered, like he’d missed something. But neither Sam nor Bucky seemed out of sorts. Steve decided to put it out of his mind and let himself enjoy the date. Even though it wasn’t one.

**_BUCKY_ **

Bucky slumped against the couch cushions, staring at his phone. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Everything alright?” Sam’s voice made him jump. He leaned against the doorway, arms folded over his chest. Bucky gently tossed the phone onto the coffee table and ran a hand over his face.

“My mom’s coming to the wedding.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “You told your mom that we’re getting married?”

_ We’re getting married, _ Sam said, but they weren’t, not really. Bucky hated hearing it roll so naturally off Sam’s tongue. It made his heart skip a beat, even though he knew it was a lie.

“I didn’t tell her anything,” Bucky griped. “Steve’s mom told her. I guess he mentioned it to his own mom and, well. World travels fast.”

“Was she mad?”

“Nah, she was more upset than anything. Apologized for not being more supportive, said she hopes we can be closer now, all that. I told her we’d send her an invitation. She’s gonna make the trip out here, allegedly.”

“Is that okay?” Sam asked, sounding concerned. 

Bucky and his mom didn’t hate each other, but they weren’t close. He’d left home a long time ago and hadn’t looked back. The extent of their relationship was an awkward phone call every New Year’s day.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Bucky answered. “She’s my mom, you know? I’ll make the effort. Hopefully she won’t be too broken up when…”

He trailed off, not wanting to say the inevitable ending of this story aloud. Sam seemed to hear it anyway.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I get it.” He paused, then raised his eyebrows again as he pointed one finger at Bucky, steady and serious. “You better make sure  _ my  _ mom does  _ not  _ find out about this.”

Bucky shook his head resolutely. “Of course not! I wouldn’t do that to her.” He respected Sam’s mama too much to put her through this farce.

Sam’s shoulders relaxed and his hand lowered. “Right. I know you wouldn’t. But what are we supposed to do now?”

Bucky shrugged. “I guess we’ve gotta finalize the menu. I know you like macaroni salad better than potato, but we already have macaroni and cheese as a side, so I thought--”

“Bucky.”

Sam’s voice was quiet, but firm. He stared at Bucky, unblinking. Bucky cleared his throat and tried to act like he wasn’t drawn to Sam’s gaze like a moth to a flame.

“Why are we doing this?”

“So you can hang out with your crush,” Bucky replied automatically.

The corner of Sam’s mouth turned upwards.  _ “My _ crush?”

Bucky grinned sheepishly. Fair enough. Ever since their trip to the winery, they had both been spending more time with Steve. Ostensibly, their meetups were meant for discussing wedding details, but in practice they talked about everything. Reconnecting with Steve was wonderful, but so was watching Steve and Sam click together. Bucky enjoyed their movie marathons and lunch outings, probably far more than a fake-engaged person should.

“It’ll be fine,” Bucky insisted, ignoring Sam’s too-accurate insinuation. “It’s not like it’ll be legal. And we’re getting great deals on everything thanks to our friends’ help. It’s basically just a big party.”

Sam didn’t answer. He sighed, then nodded to himself. Walking over to the couch, he sat next to Bucky and grabbed his hand, turning it over so he could run his fingers over the palm lines. Bucky gulped as his heart began to beat against his ribcage.

“What do you want out of all this? How do you want it to end?”

The truthful answer was that Bucky didn’t want it to end at all. He didn’t want to stop holding Sam’s hand in public, or lose Steve again once their deception was uncovered. He didn’t want to lose the fragile magic that the three of them had woven together over the last few weeks.

And sometimes, a part of him suspected that Sam felt the same. Especially now, with Sam’s warm brown eyes locked into his, a solemn expression on his face as his calloused fingers moved over Bucky’s skin.

But he couldn’t bring himself to confess. His mind scrambled to find the words that would make sense, anything to explain why he clung so desperately to this fleeting happiness that was certain to crash and burn. Instead, he stared back at Sam, throat dry and eyes damp.

The moments ticked by as they sat in silence together. Eventually, Sam let out a heavy sigh. He squeezed Bucky’s hand, then stood up.

“I’m gonna go get some air.” He shoved his feet into his sneakers and left without looking back or tying the laces.

Shadows danced across the walls as the sun crept down below the horizon, but Bucky didn’t move to turn on a light. He sat there, alone, until the room was completely dark.

**SAM**

“Bro! I am so happy for you!” Scott Lang threw his arms around Sam and squeed about five times tighter than was necessary.

“Thanks,” wheezed Sam, patting his back. His eyes flashed to Steve for help, but Steve only laughed and gave him a thumbs up.

Eventually Scott’s grip loosened and Sam slipped back into his chair. Steve’s arm was slung across the back, warm against Sam’s shoulders. Sam was just tipsy enough to lean in and enjoy it without overthinking.

Sam decided that fake bachelor parties were alright. After Bucky had refused to talk about whatever the hell they were doing, Sam hadn’t pressed the issue. They’d both just… gone along with things. Sam supposed he wasn’t quite ready to answer those questions, either.

Tonight he’d gotten to spend a few hours nestled between Steve and Bucky, drinking and laughing. Sam had to admit, ignoring the inevitable had its benefits.

Scott looked around the bar, swaying a little on his feet. “Where is Bucky, anyway?”

“He took Kate home,” Sam replied. “She twisted her ankle.”

“He left his own bachelor party to help? That’s sweet of him.”

“Yeah, he’s a real sweet guy. Speaking of…” Sam pulled out his phone and accepted the shot Steve had been holding for him. They clinked shot glasses and grinned at the screen, heads resting against each other as Sam snapped a pic. 

Snickering, Sam sent the pic to Bucky with the text,  _ don’t worry, we’re surviving. _ A few seconds later, Bucky replied with, _ yeah you look real sad without me. _

“We  _ are  _ sad without him!” Steve exclaimed as he read over Sam’s shoulder. “Let’s send a pic of us looking sad.”

“Alright,” Sam laughed. He tossed back his shot, then handed the empty shot glass to Steve. Their fingers brushed together. Sam didn’t bother ignoring the spark from their touch.

“Awww,” Scott cooed. “For real, buddy, I’m so happy you and Bucky finally sorted things out and got on the same page.”

Sam frowned. It wasn’t the first time one of their friends had congratulated them that evening. Most seemed to be aware that the wedding wasn’t legit, treating the event as more of an elaborate party than anything else. Sam wasn’t sure what Kate had told them to get them to go along with the ruse. He figured it was better that he didn’t know.

Because more than a few people had expressed happiness in a way that felt genuine, and it made Sam uncomfortable. He and Bucky had never been anything more than friends. Bucky hadn’t ever shown interest in anything romantic, as far as Sam had observed. What did everyone else see that he’d missed?

And if he  _ had  _ missed something, they now had Steve to consider. Sam wouldn’t lie to himself; he wanted Steve. And he was confident that Bucky did, too. How was that supposed to work?

Sam changed his mind. Fake bachelor parties were the worst.

A warm, steady hand circled his shoulder. “Are you okay?” Steve asked, voice low against his ear.

“Yeah,” Sam muttered. He stood up abruptly. “Need to grab some air.”

He pushed his way through the crowd to the back door, inhaling deeply once he was safe in the quiet alley. Leaning against the brick, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. The back door creaked open, and Steve slipped out to stand in front of Sam.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked, eyebrows knit with worry. “Do you need me to call Bucky? Or I can take you home, I’ve got the tab covered. Just let me know what I can do.”

A short laugh escaped from Sam’s lips. “You can’t do anything,” he said, mostly to himself. “This is all so… I can’t do this. I don’t want  _ this.” _

Sam’s head swam as the shots finally caught up with him and mixed with the rising tensions he’d been so careful to repress. Gently, Steve grabbed his shoulders.

“What don’t you want?” he asked. “The wedding? You can’t mean that, Sam, you and Bucky are--”

“I know we are,” Sam snapped. “That’s not the issue, it’s… I can’t tell you, you won’t understand.”

“Try me,” Steve shot back. Sam pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes; Steve grinned in response.

“Okay.” Steve took a step closer, His hands were still on Sam’s shoulders. “How about you tell me what you  _ do  _ want, then?”

“What do I want?” Sam blinked. He was too focused on what he  _ couldn’t  _ have; what he  _ wanted  _ wasn’t something he considered.

Steve’s eyes were fixed on him, crinkled at the corners as he tilted his head, waiting expectantly for Sam’s reply. His thumbs made little comforting circles against Sam’s shirt; he looked ready to give Sam the world, should he ask for it.

Impulsively, Sam grabbed his waist and pulled him in closer. He pressed their lips together, smothering a gasp from Steve as his fingers tightened their grip. Steve recovered quickly, pushing Sam against the brick as they kissed, moving his hands to cup Sam’s face.

Suddenly Steve pulled back, breathing heavily. His eyes widened as he backed away, hands raised. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Sam, I didn’t…”

Without finishing, he turned and ran from the alley, leaving Sam alone in the dark. Sam sighed and leaned back against the wall. He ran his fingers over his lips, mulling over what he’d just done. He wished Bucky was there to-- 

Oh, shit. Bucky.

Sam winced. He shook his head, then straightened up and pulled out his phone to call an Uber. He had to get home to Bucky. There was no time for hints and coaxing; they had to talk this out,  _ now. _ Before anyone else got hurt.

**_STEVE_ **

Sunlight filtered through the trees at the foot of the road. Steve leaned against his car and stared gloomily up the road towards the winery. He still had five minutes before he had to head towards his doom.

He hadn’t spoken to Sam or Bucky since the kiss. It still pained him to think about how selfish he’d been, how he’d taken advantage of Sam’s hurt and betrayed Bucky’s trust. Top level asshole behavior. 

But today, he would face the consequences. Maybe Sam had confessed to Bucky, in which case Steve would get his ass deservedly beat for having the nerve to show up. Or else Sam had kept silent, and Steve would get his heart broken as he watched them promise each other forever.

Either way, it would hurt like hell. No less than what Steve deserved.

Steve tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps. He straightened up and smoothed out his suit as he watched Sam and Bucky approach. They wore matching dark grey suits; Bucky’s had gold accents while Sam’s were plum. Their smiles matched as well, relaxed and kind as their joined hands swung between them. Steve’s nerves flickered as they stopped in front of him. He opened his mouth, then shut it, unsure of what to say.

Sam cleared his throat. “Listen, Steve. We’re glad you’re here, ‘cuz we’ve got a confession. We’re not getting married. We never were.”

“It was all just a misunderstanding that got out of hand,” Bucky added. “We’ll explain everything, if you give us a chance.”

“Maybe we’ll let Kate explain,” Sam joked. “She did a great job keeping your mom informed. Can’t believe she sold us out like that.”

Bucky snickered. _ “I _ can’t believe my mom showed up just to watch the three of us get our heads out of our asses. I really do have to spend more time with her. She’s pretty cool.”

Steve blinked in confusion. “I’m… What?”

“We’re not engaged,” Sam repeated. “And there’s no wedding today. There  _ is  _ a very awesome party planned, though.”

“Which we’d like you to attend. As our date.”

Sam held out his free hand as Bucky smiled encouragingly. Steve’s head spun with the sudden influx of information. Bucky and Sam weren’t engaged? And they wanted to date Steve? Together?

“Don’t overthink it, punk.”

Startled, Steve glanced down at their joined hands again, then over to Sam’s outstretched hand, still waiting. Without hesitation, he reached out to clasp it tight. Wordlessly, the three of them headed up the road, hand in hand in hand. Bucky hummed a tuneless song under his breath as Sam knocked their shoulders together.

It felt natural, like they’d made this walk a hundred times before. Steve had a feeling that would be the truth one day. And he was ready to keep taking the next steps, all three of them together.


End file.
